Scattered Glimpses: A Relationship Continues
by snoopctm
Summary: A continuation of Glimpses: A Relationship Grows. This is another series of "missing moment" vignettes in the life of Shelagh and Patrick Turner, not in chronological order. Just moments with the Turners over the course of their relationship, sometimes featuring their relationships with their family and other characters.


_**The Order of St. Raymond Nonnatus, Mother House, Chichester**_

 _ **December, 1948**_

 _The wind was a crisp slap in the face, then a constant tug as the young postulant, bundled as tightly as she could be in the cold, made her way up the walk toward the stately old house. Pulling her scarf up tighter around her neck and face and holding her hand up to shield her eyes from the wind, she squinted, catching a closer glimpse of the massive front doors. It was those doors that dominated her visio as she slowly approached the imposing edifice. Imposing, but oddly comforting all the same. There was a solidity about these doors-a stability that reminded the young sister of the vows she was about to take, the sisterhood to be gathered around her. This isn't where she would spend her life-only two months until she took her novice vows. Still, it was these two months that would serve as a prelude to the rest of her life._

 _Her stay would not be as long as most of the other postulants would have spent here. This sister was a special case. Top of her class in nursing school. Highly recommended by the medical staff at the London. Diligent, focused, motivated. Also with a heart of compassion and a determination that impressed her superiors back in Poplar. Four months she had spent there, mostly serving as a medical orderly and fill-in nurse, but her help was greatly appreciated with the new National Health Service in its infancy. It wasn't just babies they were birthing now-it was a whole new system, and this sister had been of great use. But now, the spiritual call superseded the physical one, and here she was. Two more months of study, prayer, and contemplation, and then her vows, and then, she assumed, back to Poplar to continue her work as a nurse and midwife. But who knows? Maybe the Mother Superior would send her elsewhere. She couldn't especially imagine that possibility, but she was young, and devout, and eager to please. Whenever the call came, and whatever it would be, she was ready._

 _Reaching those gigantic doors at last, she set down her suitcase, reached out and rang the bell. She stood silently on the step as the sound of the bell echoed in the chilly air. Despite the chill, she waited patiently, even eagerly. Now, the newest stage of her life would begin._

 **OSN, Mother House, Chichester**

 **December, 1963**

It was a small room, but well appointed. One lamp sat on the narrow dresser, casting a warm but dim light into the space. Shelagh Turner pushed her glasses up on her nose and squinted down at her small suitcase, which was lying open on the narrow, neatly ordered bed. It was clean-meticulous even. It looked comfortable enough. She sighed. This will do, for now. As long as she's needed, this will suffice.

Her suspicions had proved correct. She'd told Patrick, the day Sister Julienne had first called. Shelagh had been finishing up baking mince pies while she still had time. She'd added an extra batch after the phone call, not expecting her husband to arrive home early.

Patrick had surprised her while she'd been transferring the pies from the pan to a plate. Or at least, that's what she was supposed to be doing. Instead, she had stood there, suspended in time, thinking of those big, imposing doors of the Mother House. Once, their solidity seemed comforting, but now…

"Something on your mind, my love?" She felt his gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Oh!" She dropped the mince pie she'd been holding, thankful it only had a few inches to fall onto its awaiting plate. She straightened it, quickly, then after a moment, turned her gaze to Patrick, covering his hand with hers. She offered a faint smile. "I'm sorry, I was miles away!"

"Where?"

She glanced down at the pie for a second, then a few more seconds. Finally, she looked at her husband again. "Chichester. The Mother House."

His eyes narrowed a little, but his expression remained warm.

"Sister Julienne called. She's asked for my help."

"Oh?"

"She says it's the office. Mother Jesu's left it in disarray. Apparently she's been unwell for some time."

Patrick moved closer, behind Shelagh, placing his free arm around her waist. "Do you think there's more?"

Shelagh nodded, leaning back into Patrick's embrace. "There has to be. She wouldn't need me to come for a few days just for the office. And there was something about her tone."

"The two of you are very close," Patrick added.

Shelagh nodded again. "I think it's about Mother Jesu. Or rather, about her replacement."

She turned around then, facing Patrick, both his arms settling around her waist now as she placed hers on his shoulders. Patrick's expression told her he understood.

"You want to go?"

She lowered her gaze for a moment. "Yes." She looked into his eyes again then.

"And no."

He tightened his hold around her waist ever so slightly.

She glanced toward the living room, then back to the kitchen.

"It's just, the children, and the house. And Christmas. And I'm still not sure about Miss Higgins."

"Shelagh."

She sighed, taking a moment to look back up into his warm, dark eyes.

"It's been so long" she said, finally.

"How long?"

"Ten years? Since I took my life vows. I was supposed to go there when I left the sanitorium, but…"

He smiled slightly at that. "I remember."

She couldn't help but smile back before growing serious again. "It was never a home for me. Not really. Nonnatus House was my home, until it wasn't. I couldn't go back to Chichester, once I knew where I really belonged." She reached up a placed a hand on his cheek.

He nodded, taking her hand, lightly kissing it, then lowering it to hold over his heart. "And now Sister Julienne needs you."

"Yes."

They'd spoken more about her plans—and her concerns- later that evening, and even more that night, cuddled close in bed. It was a chilly night, but she always felt warm in his arms. Warm, secure, sure.

Now, in the low light at the Mother House, Shelagh glanced down at the bed. It was small, crisply made. Not stark, but simple. Still, it was opulence compared to the austere, partitioned cubicles where the sisters slept-where Sister Bernadette had once slept. But now she wouldn't be housed with the sisters. It was a guest room for her.

It was all she would need while she was here, but it wasn't home. Not anymore.

It had been a full day. There had been so much to think about, so much to do. Walking up the drive and seeing those great big doors-not so comforting this time, at least until they opened and Sister Julienne appeared, so grateful to see her. So many memories. Photographs on the wall, the long table at lunch. So many sisters, some of whom she'd remembered, and some she'd never met until now. Those who remembered her as Sister Bernadette-like Sister Hilda-smiled at her warmly, but didn't put the memory into words. She was a guest now. Mrs. Turner. A nurse, a married woman and mother from Poplar, who had come to visit, bearing mince pies and a warm smile.

The faint ticking of a clock pulled her from her contemplations. A squat, round little alarm clock perched on the bedside table, marking the seconds with its precise little hands, ever moving.

Time to get ready for bed, she supposed. Turning to the small mirror on the dresser, she began unpinning her hair. She noted the faint lines around her eyes as she removed her glasses. She was certainly older now. 10 years, had it been, since she was last here? Or was it 12? Or 100? She squinted at her reflection, remembering a young, eager postulant all those years ago.

She shook her head slightly as her hair tumbled to her shoulders. The past was gone now. That postulant wasn't here anymore. Shelagh Turner was here. She was here for Sister Julienne, and there was work to be done. Whatever was to come in the next few days, she would have to be ready.


End file.
